Draco Malfoy & the Random Inanimate Objects
by MusikLuver
Summary: This story is about how Draco handles life on the run with Snape after what happened in HBP. NOTE: does not follow DH, this fic is now AU.
1. Draco Malfoy & the Muggle Train

**Disclaimer:** I don't own ANY of this... sadly. Not that I could do it justice, or whatever, but. Eh.

**Warnings**: I know it's like a month past HBP, but for those of you who have YET to finish it, or get your hands on it, consider this your warning: _This takes place after Harry Potter & The Half-Blood Prince_.

**

* * *

**

**_Draco Malfoy and the Random Inanimate Objects_**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter One:Draco Malfoy and the Muggle Train**

The silence was disrupted with a sigh.

Trees still passed by, and the sun still rose gradually into the blooming sky. The earth still spun, and the birds still rose early to catch their bloody worms.

It almost didn't seem right.

Not when I wished my lips would no longer be fanned by my breath. Not when I wished that my heart would simply stop in its place and just take me away as repayment for my evil.

Professor Snape, upon hearing my soft sigh, whipped his head around to face me. His face seemed more sallow than usual, and his eyes were more sunken than I had seen them in days.

Neither of us had said a word since he met with me at our rendezvous point not ten minutes after I had arrived. He looked more disgruntled than usual, but I didn't pry.

"This must be done, Draco," Snape reminded me in a scolding tone. He didn't appreciate my sighs of boredom and anger when he was 'doing this for me.' "There is _simply_ no way around it."

I loathed running away. I despised the fact that I would be in hiding for the rest of my life. Or at least until this whole War thing blew over.

I found myself wishing that Voldemort would just hurry up and kill Potter. But I hoped Potter would give him a good fight, so that I could think of it as revenge upon the Dark Lord for making me corner Dumbledore. Fool though he was, I suddenly could see it wasn't right.

"Don't ever let your guard down, lest someone be listening to your thoughts," he added, giving me a sharp glare. "Never forget what you have been taught, Mister Malfoy."

I sighed again, in annoyance, and quickly locked up my mind so that I could think appropriately nasty thoughts about my former professor. I was greatly disappointed that I had let my guard down, and failed to even notice his sticking his rather crooked nose where it didn't belong.

"I'm never going back," I realized aloud in a hollow voice. "I'm never going to see that wretched place I called school again. Not now, not ever."

"Quite right," Snape replied. "You won't be seeing many familiar sights for some time now. You're going into hiding, Draco, and you'll stay there for many years to come."

I briefly wondered what would come of him, since Potter most undoubtedly knew that it was _he_ that had cast the Avada. I knew that Snape was going to be my Secret Keeper, and I wondered if he, too, would go into hiding. I wondered if it would cancel everything out if I agreed to be _his _Secret Keeper in turn.

The trees were slowing down now, and they were no longer a continuous blur out my window. The train was stopping.

"I hate this Muggle way of living," I exclaimed hatefully. "I hate that we're reduced to riding a Muggle train! Why can't we just ride the Magick Express?"

Snape's eyebrow rose at my demanding manner, and he carefully warned me in an even voice, "Do not assume that because you carry the Malfoy name that you can speak to me like that."

I had nothing to come back with, because I knew the answer to my own question. I could not retort because I owed him a debt; I could not fully carry out the plans our Dark Lord had given me. I was too much of a coward, too easily swayed by empty promises of safety and protection.

I was glad Snape had cast the Avada for me, to silence the old fool's promises. I was weak for considering them, and I hated myself for it.

"To answer your previous question, Draco," Snape began silkily while I fell into thought, "we cannot ride the Magick Express because we will be easily recognized. And we cannot risk being seen."

"So you're not going back?"

He looked at me, surprised at the wavering hopeful tone that I thought I had expertly hidden. A small smirk captured his mouth as he explained, "I will be visiting the Dark Lord after you've gotten settled in. But no, I will not be going back to Hogwarts. He has asked me to lie in wait with you."

That meant that I was not to show my face for a good several months. Not even to Him, despite how much he direly wanted to speak to me, I was sure. However, it gave me a distinct pleasure that my old family friend would be forsaking his treasured job because he had revealed his double-crossing identity to those simpering fools. To protect _me_.

"Well… Good," I said, at a loss for better words. "_Then_ will I be able to start attending the meetings again?"

This time it was Snape who sighed.

I figured it was because my company grew tiresome. As it almost always did.

_He did not know that Snape was truly at a loss as to why, after witnessing Draco hesitate at killing his Headmaster, he still wanted to be a part of that life._

---

The Manor was cold and empty, as it usually was. Atop the perpetually snowy hill, it appeared as menacing as it always had. No one could tell the difference. No one could possibly know that the number of its inhabitants slowly dwindled as the years went by. No one knew that the only human left was a poor, grieving mother/wife.

My heart clenched. She was half the reason I found myself in the predicament that I was in. I hoped beyond hope that she understood.

"C-can I?" I asked my new guardian. My voice cracked as I spoke, and if I had not been trained against it, I knew tears would have been in my eyes as I pleaded, "Let me see her."

"You cannot," Snap answered in an unusually soft voice. "She must never know you were ever here. Go, get your belongings."

I climbed the spiraling stairs to my room dejectedly, squeezing my eyes shut with a force I never knew I possessed. Her room was at the end of the dark hall, and I could hear her loud, wailing sobs in between her shaky breathing.

Her breathing rattled peculiarly loud in my room as I packed what belongings had not been left at Hogwarts, and I had to wonder if my guilt was the cause.

Finally, I levitated my suitcase down the stairs once more, and my heart clenched when my mother's sobs briefly intensified.

"We can leave now," I allowed stoically, wishing I had given into my sudden desire to leave a note for her. "I didn't say a word," I added, as though it would relieve him.

He spared a knowing glance at me, and I allowed my cold face to flash a brief smile.

_He didn't know that the glance Snape gave hid the actual pride he felt knowing that Draco was not as heartless as he liked to portray himself._

---

The street reeked of filthy Muggles. It appeared as though a mischievous creature such as Peeves had come along and vandalized the entire neighborhood. The houses were in a poor state, and suddenly the phrase "growing up on the wrong side of the Hogsmeade" made sense. Dirty brown water trickled through the cracks of the cobblestone path, carrying the distinct smell of immorality and failure.

It seemed almost perfect for me. But despite the abode I believed I truly deserved, I asked with a grimace, "Is this the place?"

Observing the disapproving contortion of my expression, Snape scowled severely. "This is where I live. I am here to retrieve something of importance," he snapped, walking a bit more brusquely now. "Never you mind what it is," he added when I opened my mouth.

"I didn't say a word," I defended innocently. "Please, by all means, retrieve your things."

However, his cloak was already billowing around the corner. It was evident he did not need my approval of his actions.

Once inside, I opted to stay in the doorway. I must admit that I feared for my life, noting the unstable way his house and everything in it appeared.

"Spinner's End," I read in a quiet voice. The street name rolled around on my tongue in a strangely familiar way. But I shook off the feeling, disregarding it as déjà vu.

"We're off," Snape announced from the sitting room. "Wormtail, you are dismissed." This was said in a much quieter voice, clearly not intended for me to hear. I peeked around the rooms curiously, the name ringing a bell in the recesses of my mind.

Ah, yes of course. _Peter_. That simpering fool stood before Snape trying his best to make his small, wide frame appear menacing. Caressing his silver hand lovingly, he sharply retorted, "I believe that is not your call."

"What do you mean, 'it's not my call'?" Snape demanded thunderously. It was clear his patience with Peter had worn thin during his stay. "I believe your sole purpose was to stay here and assist me. This entitles me to be rid of you whenever I feel that your assistance is no longer needed. Or shall I take it up with Voldemort?"

"Y-you do that, Severus," Peter stuttered,

My eyebrow rose at this challenge to authority. This was not the Peter I remembered Father sneering about. He was supposed to be fearful, and thus, authority respecting.

_He didn't know that Peter could not be dismissed from Severus Snape's side because Lord Voldemort had sent him to spy on Snape. Just in case._

---

The familiar chug of a locomotion filled the air, and a large, forbidding black train chugged down the scenic tracks at a comfortable pace. On the outside, it was a harsh, hot day where the sun beat down mercilessly on those who dwelled on the outside of this charging mass of steel. Inside, however, the occupants sat in a perfectly accommodating temperature while chatting idly about their plans.

But behind the closed door of a seemingly empty compartment, I was sprawled listlessly along my little bench, alternating between counting the trees and pondering about our curious trip to Snape's humble abode.

He hadn't caught me listening into the conversation, but I daresay from the suspicious look on his face that he knew me better than to simply accept I had stayed in the doorway like a good little boy. When he thought I had taken a catnap earlier during the ride, I could hear him grumbling about "such insolence" and "have a nice long chat" and "the nerve". Needless to say, nothing more was said on the subject.

I snuck a glance over at Snape, and was careful to ensure that my mind was locked to his prying nature.

"Prof—" I begun, and then cut myself off. He was no longer my professor. "Er, Snape, where are we going?"

I had finally accepted that there was no choice but to lower myself to Muggle standards concerning the train. I even knew beyond a doubt that I would have to live with them as well, if I wanted to successfully hide from the Ministry. But still, I hoped against hope for a nice, wizarding village.

"You will know when we get there," he replied easily.

Yes, thought I, because it would be rather obvious we arrived in the vicinity of my hideout when we got off the train.

I offered him a cocky smirk when I felt him trying to probe my thoughts. "Sorry, sir, you have trained me all too well."

And with a glee I had not felt since I last taunted Potter (which was far too long ago, I assure you), I closed my eyes to truly sleep at his mutterings of "insolent boy."

_He didn't know that while he slept, Snape cheated and probed his mind._

_

* * *

_

**_Long and boring _A/N:** I'm trying a different style of writing, as you could probably tell. I'm testing the waters, so to speak lol. There's another story I'll be uploading soon where the style is mooooost interesting, most interesting indeed. In any case, this is one of my many takes on life after HBP.

This story isn't going to be as beefy as my past ones have been, I don't think. But this way makes it easier for me to update. Hopefully I'll do better with this story, because I actually have a rough idea of where I want to take this; unlike the others, where I just sort of let my fingers do the typing. No planning, just winging it. For everything lol.

So tell me what you think, and maybe that'll shape how this turns out a little more. I wanted to post this first chapter before I finished the second because I was getting to antsy lol. And I just want to know how it goes over... or there's no way I could finish that chapter ahaha. Oh well. So is life.


	2. Draco Malfoy & the Dusty Shack

**Disclaimer: **As if. I wish it were mine lol

**Author's Notes:** This chapter is definitely shorter... but eh. This chapter is sort of awkward, but I'm trying to get to the good stuff so, so be it!

* * *

**Chapter Two: Draco Malfoy and the Dusty Shack**

* * *

The hideaway was indeed very shabby, as had been expected. It appeared as though it had been uninhabited for decades, at least. The architecture of the _shack_ was shoddy at best, what with the way the bricks and wood were pieced so haphazardly. Vines grew and wrapped all along the sides, and even seemed to be growing _inside_ as well. The door was blocked, and the windows were shattered.

I found myself wishing that Spinner's End really _was_ the place I was supposed to hide away in.

"We'll spend the first week or so cleaning up, of course," Snape informed me casually. "Since this is a Muggle neighborhood, there will be no use of magic. It is prohibited, do you understand me?"

I scowled at his sharp tone, and nodded with a clenched jaw. "I understand perfectly," I ground out, clutching my wand tightly.

"Then you will have no problem handing it over – just to be sure?" Snape requested with a condescending sneer.

"There's no bloody way in hell that you'll be getting my wand!"

"Good boy, always be readily suspicious. But you will give it to me, because I am your new guardian, and for our safety, I must hide yours. Consider it safekeeping."

I itched to brandish the 9-inch stick of oak clutched tightly in my hand and utter a curse that would immobilize him while I ran for it. But before I could even give into the urge, I felt it fly out of my unyielding grip.

"You cheated!" I cried out, watching helplessly as Snape pocketed it. "You said it in your mind! You didn't even give me a chance to—"

"If you really wanted to keep your wand, you would have been on guard, and prepared for my 'cheating' as you so delightfully phrase it," he answered silkily. "You are as well trained as I in the forms of magic I use."

"As well trained?" I scoffed. "I've only been learning the tricks for a year. You've had your entire life! That was no competition! And I haven't even really tried that!"

He seemed to tire of my immature antics, and glided toward the door. He took a small knife from inside his robes, and cut away at a few lone vines that crept along the frame, and whispered a soft spell.

_Alohomora_, I suspected as the door swung open with a loud, disturbing creak.

_He didn't know that the Alohomora was nowhere near strong enough for this magically protected house._

---

Inside, the damage was horrible. What little possessions the last owners had had were now lying broken on the floor or where they stood. Glass shards from worthless vases and windowpanes littered the floor, dust rose with every step, and cobwebs occupied almost every free corner and doorway. There was just one, modest room that squeezed all the elements of a home into its corners.

There was a small kitchen plunked in the corner to my left, which was just big enough for a leaking, rusted sink, three cabinets with a short countertop, and an old, dusty white boxy-thing. I moved forward to open it, and it was completely dark. I gathered its purpose was to hold food, because of a peculiar, moldy package that smelled atrocious. Leave it to Muggles to have _no idea_ how to properly keep food.

"_Ugh_," I gasped, pinching the bridge of my nose and slamming it shut. I was too afraid to look in the small freezer. "This is absolutely abysmal," I sneered haughtily, shooting a look at Snape.

Two beds were placed perpendicular to each other straight ahead, and there was a night table in between them. It had a broken drawer that hung out, and whatever was in it was, of course, covered in dust. There were no sheets for the beds, and there was one lone pillow that appeared to have had the stuffing beat out of it. Judging solely from the feathers all over the floor and bed.

Along one wall was a lumpy sofa, with a little table placed in front of it.

"What's that?" I asked Snape, pointing to the small black box on the table.

"It's called a television. It's used for Muggle entertainment," he explained with a bored tone. "Those knobs change the station and adjust the coloring."

"Change it to _what_?" I asked.

"Draco, I have not the time nor the patience to explain the complex workings of Muggle things," Snape snapped irately. "Accept that it does not matter to us, because it is broken anyway."

Sulking a little, I moved along, trying to see if there was anything of use in this little shack. If you could even _call_ it that.

"A broom!" I exclaimed, finally feeling a little excited. Yes, _finally_, the Muggles knew what they were doing.

Snape had an amused look on his face as he watched me approach it, but I thought nothing of it.

"Up!" I demanded impatiently, unable to wait to feel the wind through my hair. Nothing happened.

I knew it was definitely an older model (who could blame them, they were so behind in the times), but I had hoped it would still respond.

"The only thing that piece of garbage is good for is to sweep up this mess," Snape said, unable to force down his grin. "Muggles don't use them to fly, it's just an item for cleaning."

That was it. This was ridiculous. Take me home, right now. Take me to my leader, and let him have his wicked way with me. Damn the consequences, damn it all, I just wanted to die. Muggles were even _worse_ than I thought.

"What am I supposed to do to keep entertained," I whined, stomping my foot and reverting to my childhood tantrums. "These Muggles are so _boring_ and _unclean_! How do they live? I can't understand it! And _where is the bathroom?_"

Wordlessly, Snape pointed out the broken window directly behind me. There, was something shaped almost strangely like a coffin that stood vertically.

Oh Merlin, I could practically _see _the flies swarming. Suddenly, I could smell something foul that was _not_ from the Muggle foodkeeper.

He smirked at my discomfort, and dropped a large box on the floor, sending thousands of pounds of dust up into the air. I cocked my head, unable to recall seeing him taking such a huge box.

_He didn't know that in that box, was the mysterious package Snape had to stop by Spinner's End for._

---

The neighborhood that surrounded the hideout seemed almost luxurious in comparison. They were tall, skinny, and scrunched together. But at least someone was living in it to keep it … _decent_. They were freshly painted, and their little gardens were far from manicured and award-winning, but they were _decent_.

"Why couldn't we have _those_ houses?"

"There were already people living in them," Snape replied dryly. "Couldn't very well hide ourselves from them, now could we?"

"Hello! Obliviate, much?" I asked snidely. "They're inferior to us anyway! Just a bunch of Muggles, who would care?"

"They are most certainly _not_ inferior to us," Snape growled dangerously, fixing me with a severe stare. "It's that kind of thinking that gets you to where you are now. Aside from which, we would have to go through a long chain of Muggles to assure that no one remembered the original owners."

And that was the first time I had ever had any indication of Snape's real feelings about the issues my Lord harped on endlessly.

My mouth opened and closed wordlessly, and a sense of triumph came over me. "You don't hate Muggles the way we do?"

"Mister Malfoy, thinking that anyone is inferior to you is entirely too preposterous. Not only is it egotistical, but it would only set you up for disaster."

"Oh yeah? How so?" I challenged, gesturing to the houses in the neighborhood. "These prats would have had _no _idea what hit them!"

"By thinking they are not up to par would cause you to lower your usual standards," he replied in his usual oily voice. My challenges seemed to have no effect over him, for his expression did not change by even the slightest degree.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"My, you certainly are ambitious. Trying to catch me off guard, Draco? To come crawling back to Lord Voldemort, with information about his beloved spy? I assure you, you will gain nothing of use that you could possibly ever care to report back to him," Snape said, ignoring my question.

I turned to face him again, fixing him with one of my best glares. The Slytherin part of me would not give up, even though I knew logically he was right. Maybe he was entirely loyal to the Dark Side.

"We must come back inside," Snape commanded. "We do not fit out here in our wizardry robes. Especially not with your Hogwarts one. It would be too curious to Muggles."

I followed his once more billowing black robe wordlessly, and closed the door as gently as I could. I still feared that this place would collapse, and I didn't much fancy the idea of dying in such a _Muggle_ fashion. I preferred to be taken by magic.

"It's been a long day," Snape said to finally break the silence. Whether he was referring to yesterday, I wasn't sure. "We should rest."

The suggestion itself was absurd, because it was the middle of the day, and the sun was shining brightly. On top of that, there were no curtains on the windows to block out the light.

But even as he said it, I could feel my eyelids drooping. Despite my short nap, I suddenly felt as if I hadn't slept in years. And like the cliché, suddenly everything was dark.

_He didn't know that Snape had gone against his no-magic rule, and cast a spell over Draco to force him to sleep._


	3. Draco Malfoy & the Unforgettable Memory

**Disclaimer:** All I do is play!

**Author's Notes:** Ok, so _technically_ a memory isn't a random inanimate object, but work with me, please! Lol. This chapter features a lot of indecisiveness on how Draco feels about what happened to Dumbledore, and all that good stuff. Aaand, next we'll be getting a brief glimpse or two Lord Voldemort and how he's holding down the fort.

* * *

**Chapter Three: Draco Malfoy and the Unforgettable Memory**

* * *

Hogwarts was still the strong, tall, impenetrable building castle it had always been. There were still towers, the Whomping Willow still whomped, and every so often the peaceful lake was disturbed by a tentacle. Wind blew softly, scattering the fall leaves from the Forbidden Forest closer to the school. Everything looked as it should.

I clutched the tree next to me, watching the scene with an aching heart. I longed to be inside griping about the schoolwork, planning on when to holdQuidditch practices as I should. Just before I ran away, I had been declared Captain.

Gazing at the school from afar hurt unlike anything I had expected. I cursed Snape for bringing me here, on the first day of school.

"Close your mouth, Draco. You're nearly drooling," Snape commanded smoothly.

"What are we _doing here_?" I demanded in the petulant tone I had perfected at the age of three.

I squeezed my eyes shut, and suddenly the guilt hit me. Those inside were sitting for lunch, missing the absence of their proper Headmaster. When they opened again, they unwillingly trailed over to the tower he had fallen from. It was _so far up_ from all the way down on the ground.

And when Severus opened his mouth, I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sight of him. His eyes twinkled in a way I had only seen in one man. (And what was _Snape _doing with twinkling eyes anyway!)

"Why don't you tell _me_?" he asked. "After all, you're the one who demanded that I follow you."

"I—"

Had I really? Had I had some sort of guilt blackout, or something equally ridiculous like that? Why _did _I want to come here?

No. It must've been Severus! I could distinctly remember hearing his voice urging me, against my will, to go to Hogwarts.

I swallowed tightly, glancing once more at the tower against my will.

Severus placed his hand on my shoulder reassuringly. "He felt nothing, Draco. He went peacefully."

It was, of course, not at all what I had expected him to say. I expected him to say, "It wasn't your fault." Then I could truly turn my anger to him, because _of course _it was my fault!

Angered, I shoved his hand off. Growling, I said, "He didn't deserve it! He deserved all the pain I _should have _given him!"

My former professor looked at me in a peculiar fashion. I thought, for a fleeting moment, that he was disappointed in me.

…I was disappointed in me, too.

_He didn't know that Professor Snape was truly disappointed in him and the failed Imperius Curse._

---

It was now nightfall, and noticeably colder. A distorted moon glimmered on the rippling surface of The Lake. Miscellaneous sounds of magical animals were faintly carried by the wind from the Forbidden Forest. The castle hadn't seen movement from the inside yet, presumably because no one was allowed outside anymore. And lights could be seen from the windows of Hagrid's Hut.

I sighed, watching the puff of my breath fade away into the cold. Rising from my seat in the grass outside the school, I turned to Snape.

"He tried to belittle me, you know?"

Severus looked over at me, with a raised eyebrow. Brushing his long, greasy hair back, he asked, "Who?" But he knew the answer.

"Even as I stood there, with the wand in my hand aimed straight for him, he tried to compliment me on what I had done. That old man knew I couldn't kill him. _Damn him_!" I shouted into the night, kicking a pebble by my shoe.

Nothing was said in reply, almost as if what I had said never left my lips. Furious, I sat back down on the ground, watching the grounds tiredly.

"We should leave," Severus said finally, rising himself. "We've spent enough time here."

I leaned against the tree and shook my head. "No."

"No?" he questioned, once more raising his infuriating eyebrow. "I am afraid, young Malfoy, that staying is out of the question. We've stayed long enough, now let's go."

"I don't even know why we stayed so long in the first place," I commented snidely, staring at the Astronomy Tower. "What have we accomplished here, anyway?"

Professor Snape followed my line of sight and answered grimly, "Apparently nothing."

I tore my eyes away from the forbidding tower, and looked back at him. "What do you mean?"

_He didn't know that Severus Snape was trying in vain to get him to forgive himself._

---

There was a bright blast of green that shot from the tip of a wand. A body was at the end of the line of fire, and that body jumped and took flight. Several pairs of eyes watched the magnificent arc the body made with glee. Two pairs watched uneasily, and one pair watched, horrified and unable to take action. The body made it over the walls, and dove down to the ground.

I woke up in a cold sweat, with my heart racing. I propped myself onto my elbows, and groped for the Muggle source of light.

"Severus!" I hollered. "Wake up, you –"

"Fool?" finished the voice that belonged to the person I had been yelling for. "How simpleton of you, Draco," he taunted.

"_Potter_," I sneered, balling up my fists.

"Draco, though it may only be three in the morning, I trust that you could still accurately identify the sound of my voice," Snape drawled.

"_Potter _was there!" I ground out, frustrated.

After a moment of silence, Severus Snape conceded, "Yes, he was hiding under his cloak."

"You _knew_?" I demanded.

"Of course I knew, don't be ignorant, Draco," Severus spat out. "And perhaps next you're going to ask me just what in the bloody hell made me think you shouldn't know?"

"That's it exactly!" I yelled angrily while flailing my arms to hopefully highlight this familiar emotion. "Maybe you could tell me why, during the hardest moment of my life, Potter was sitting there, powerless to stop me. Why he was sitting there, experiencing my moment of weakness!"

Severus sighed, massaging his forehead with two fingers. "It's late, Draco," he said instead. "We can continue this discussion tomorrow."

My mouth opened, eager to retort, but I silenced myself. I knew it was futile to argue any longer.

_He didn't know that Severus had been waiting for the admission of difficulty he had had to face that night._

---

The sun's warm, loving rays shone through the dust on the windows, and the dust particles inside could now be seen clearly, dancing about in the air, just waiting for someone to inhale and sneeze back out. Of the two beds crammed in the small room, only one was occupied. The other was empty, and absent of any sign of ever holding a body.

I fumed.

I sneezed.

I fumed some more.

"Where _are you_?" I demanded to the empty shack, my balled up fists clutching my stained white sheets. How _like _him to be conspicuously missing the morning of the promised continuation of last night's heated discussion.

Yet, how uncommonly unlike him to simply leave me alone at such a desperate time.

I started to worry, wondering if something had happened while I was sleeping. Oh God, what if I was next? And if so, why not take me with Severus? Was it to torture—

"Draco, you foolish boy!" sneered my former Potions Master. "Stop that ridiculous line of thought right now!"

"Wh-What? Where are you?"

I could literally _hear _the roll of his eyes.

"Look out the window, you intolerable little—"

"Hey! There's _no need_ for any name calling!" I shouted angrily at him before muttering, "…You greasy slimeball."

His eyes narrowed, and he lowered the otherwise threatening garden shears. "Because you're too spoiled to do some work around here, _I _have been forced to pick up the slack. So this is the first and last time you will _ever _see me trimming the bushes!" Severus snapped. He took off his heavy gloves and took off his goggles, all the while managing to look somewhat dignified.

I envied him.

"Yes, well… get back in here! We have important business to discuss!" I yelled to him, stomping my foot in a childish way, and pointing to the floor beside me. "_You promised!_"

With a sigh on his part, and a self-satisfied smirk on mine, Snape walked through the door and dropped down to his bed whilst delighting me with an evil glare.

"Would it have made any difference for you to know Harry Potter was there watching you, helpless and powerless to stop you?" my guardian asked with a wary sigh.

For a brief moment, I allowed myself to revel in the phrasing, and imagined the pleasure I would have taken in that moment had I known just how _helpless_ and _powerless_ Pothead was while I wielded all the power he so fruitlessly desired. Perhaps then things would've been different; perhaps then I would not have failed so miserably; perhaps I could have even tortured the Headmaster until he begged for his life…

But that wasn't what Severus was asking, because that would have been impossible. He was asking if it mattered that I knew _after _everything had been said and done.

After realizing he was staring at me expectantly, and with puffs of boredom every so often to try and get my attention, I glanced over at him. "Well, no. But—"

"Then what would have been the point?" he demanded, rising from his now rumpled bed. "Whether or not Potter had been there, makes no difference."

I heard the implication hidden in his matter-of-fact statement.

_You wouldn't have had to nerve to kill your own Headmaster._

And as it usually did, in my typical, hateful life, I felt the anger boiling up inside of me. The red hot sting of guilt, resentment, and bitterness rose up in my throat and spilled out off of my tongue rapidly, as if it was burning me to keep it inside.

"Perhaps not, but maybe if _you_ hadn't stepped forward, I could have _finished_ what I started! But instead, _you_ had to jump in and steal all of the glory I spent _all year_ toiling for!"

_He didn't know that it was against his will that Severus ended Albus Dumbledore's life._

---


	4. Draco Malfoy & the Super Market

**Disclaimer: **Though I pine for the rights, the money, the genius, and the writing skills that are JKR...Alas, I own nothing.

**Author's Notes:** It's been some time now, and I apologize. I've been very limited creatively. Lately it's been all about the fan videos that I make. Now that I've lost inspiration for that, and gained it forthis, here we are! I hope you like this chapter, because it's getting ready for something that I was inspired with by rereading the beginning of HBP.

Also, this chapter is a little longer than the other's so enjoy! D**

* * *

**

Chapter Four: Draco Malfoy and the Super Market

* * *

The Dark Dungeon appeared to be everything the name implied. It was dark, dank, forbidding, and cells lined the hallways lit only by small torches. Most of the cells were empty, crying out for the prisoners they had once so gloriously held in the Dark Times. The new revolution was moving far too slowly, and the skin-and-bones humans whose screams of agony had floated like music through the dungeon were little and few. In the middle of the dungeon was one room: circular, and moderately well-lit with half a dozen halls leading out of it.

Huddled in a semi-circle around a modestly decorated tatty throne were the minions of the Dark Lord; masks in place, hoods up, and hands folded before them as they bowed their exit.

After all but one had left through the halls (undoubtedly to taunt those held captive in the cramped cells), the pale Lord turned to his loyal servant, who no longer portrayed the bravery he had earlier in Spinner's End.

"Where has Severus gone to?" he questioned in a hiss.

"I-I don't know. He wouldn't say, My Lord!" quivered the dumpy man. He shielded his face with his silver arm, cowering in fear. "He only came to pick up something and to tell me to leave!"

The snaky eyes of his master narrowed suspiciously, and he pursed his lips in thought. "Peter," he acknowledged uncharacteristically, "what was in that box?"

Startled slightly by his knowledge of the box, Peter stuttered his answer again. "Why, I-I don't know. He refused to tell me anything, even in your name!"

Voldemort paused in thought again, tilting his head. His most useful Death Eater was withholding information from him? How strange. How suspicious. How _stupid_.

"Was the boy with him?"

"Of-of course," Wormtail replied in his shaky voice. "I can only a-assume that he was taking him to a hideaway."

"Don't be a fool, _of course _he was! It was on my orders! But he was supposed to relay the whereabouts to you. How peculiar… he told me nothing of a box…" the Dark Lord mused, tapping on the arm of his throne impatiently.

---

It was very brightly lit – there was no denying that. There were numbered aisles going all the way up to 15. It seemed to be never-ending maze of food, products, and other various things. And it was _crawling_ with Muggles. At the front of the store were more aisles, this time not containing the multitude of products the first ones had. This set of aisles only went up to 10 or so, and the Muggles placed their shopping items here. To watch it move magically forward.

"How _bloody_ strange!" I exclaimed. "What in the hell is this place?"

"A market," Snape answered dryly, pushing the cart forward. "We're here to buy something to tide us over, if that wasn't already obvious to you."

"No need for the snark, Snape," I scolded. Casting a side glance in his direction, I smirked. "Why, how _domestic_ of you."

"Quiet. Or I'll have you push the cart," he sneered, stopping by some vegetables.

I grimaced when he picked up and tossed in lettuce, tomatoes, and other assortments of vegetables I despised.

He glanced over at my disgusted expression and said, "Even _you_ must've been taught to eat healthily."

"Can we at least get some Chocolate Frogs? Fizzing Whizzbees? _Anything_?" I whined petulantly, gazing around helplessly. I _hated_ this store. I _hated_ Muggles.

"Perhaps you can try some Reese's and see how you like those," Severus answered me with a satisfied chuckle.

"And just what in the hell is that?" I demanded, pushing aside my brown hair. "I hate doing this, you know? This was just a sorry excuse to make yourself look like what you dream of every night!" I yelled nastily.

"Hold your _tongue_," he warned me. "Why don't you go fetch some eggs? And make sure they're not cracked!"

"I suppose it's just a small miracle you didn't make me look like a _Weasley_?" I continued, moving towards the Dairy aisle. "However it's _not comforting_ knowing I resemble Neville Longbottom!"

Severus took the carton of eggs from me angrily. He continued pushing the filling cart along the store's aisles, ignoring every word I said. The only hint he gave of hearing was the flicker of annoyance in his hazel eyes.

"Speaking of a Weasley," he began silkily.

Oh God. My mind began racing, nervous as to what his cocky tone of voice could imply. I feared his sharp tongue, and what it could reveal of me.

"I've been meaning to ask you about something Pansy told me at the start of the term," he continued, grabbing randomly at items we could survive off of.

"That pug-faced bint? What in the world could she possibly say about _me_?" I seethed angrily, feeling a twinge of hurt that strongly resembled anger at the betrayal of one of my own housemates.

"She seems to be under the impression that you fancy one of the Weasleys," Snape allowed, granting me a glance in my direction.

He was carefully analyzing my reaction to the news. To see if he could calculate my feelings about the suggested Weasley. I had to be very, _very_ cautious.

"RON! OH _EW_!" I shouted, instead. I shivered, trying hard to scrub the mental image of me fancying _that_ prat.

"…No, not exactly," Severus assured me, a light disturbed tone creeping into his voice. "Unless there's something you want to tell me?" he asked in what could have been considered a fatherly tone. If you ignored the fear behind it.

"NO WAY!" I continued screeching, in that unmanly manner I seemed to possess when I got upset. Bugger.

"Er," Snape tried, failing for once in his life to coherently string together words.

"_Gross_," I emphasized, hoping to get my point across. "She's _disgusting_, with her fantasies about me being gay. As if! I'd sooner go after Weaselette!"

"Yes, that's the one!" Snape choked out, moving a little more rapidly down the store and towards the stranger aisles that moved the food to a strange looking machine.

"_She Weasel_?" I demanded in an incredulous voice.

"Yes, Ginny Weasley."

"Oh I knew Pansy was a jealous little witch, but what ludicrous ideas to explain away my ignoring her!"

_He didn't know that Snape suspected Pansy was more on base than Draco thought her to be. Whether he believed it or not._

---

On the bus, it was much more silent than could be expected. It was hardly empty, to any standards, but no one spoke a word above the level of a whisper. Minutes passed by impossibly slowly, yet the trees outside seemed to whiz by impossibly quickly. The only sounds were the wheezes of the driver, the sounds of the brakes, and the whooshes of everything outside zooming by.

"It would be alright, you know?" Severus prodded, moving aside some of our groceries for the new passenger to sit.

"Oh, come off it!" I growled in exasperation. "I thought we had settled this. Besides, she's with Potter now anyway. There, see? It is _officially _settled."

"Yes, well, if that were true, then I agree. It would be futile to be smitten with her. However, since that is not the case, I find myself having this discussion with you."

"So then, she isn't?" I asked, trying to smother the glee in my voice. And it _wasn't_ because I thought I had a snowball's chance in hell with her. (Not that I _wanted_ a snowball's chance in hell, mind you.) It was because _Potter _was now stripped of something else he loved.

"There's something peculiar about the way you try to cover a heterosexual attraction for something more… unacceptable in our society," Snape commented softly.

I looked confused, until he tapped his head with his index finger.

"See, the problem with nudging into someone else's thoughts is that you _completely _misinterpret the context of things," I sneered hatefully, angry at myself for letting my guard down both outwardly and inwardly. "So maybe you should put a stop to that. _Now_."

"Perhaps I will, Draco, as soon as _you _learn how to keep your mind shut at all times. It's important to not let your guard down. People are looking for us now, Draco, and I wouldn't be surprised if you led them _right to us_," Severus lectured coldly.

"Don't worry, _Professor_, I try my very hardest not to let my thoughts linger on that awful thing you seem to like to call our home."

A tense silence fell between us, and I found comfort in it, because Snape seemed to have forgotten all about his inquisition. Still, I _had _to get something in.

"So while we're exploring each other's faults and fancies… How about _you _tell _me_ exactly _why_ you've decided to sport Potter's hairdo in these hideous glamour charms of yours? Sounds like you've been hiding something from me, as well."

"It's not modeled after your nemesis, if that's what you're hinting," Severus answered silkily, in a hushed voice, unshaken by my observation.

"Well then can you explain to me how it is that you look exactly like his older half? You've got the glasses, the hair… Really, the only thing you're missing are his green eyes and scar! But I suppose I can't blame you on the scar; it _is _rather hideous," I drawled, not bothering to hide the cockiness in my voice.

"Draco," Severus continued, thoroughly ignoring my taunts, "I believe we truly need to discuss any feelings you may have for Ginny Weasley. This needs to be out in the open before I go visit You-Know-Who today."

"What _feelings_?" I snarled, throwing my hands up into the air helplessly. "She Weasel is tied to the scarred boy with a severe Oedipus Complex."

I could see him fight to smother his smile, as a personal rule. Never let them see you smile.

Finally, however, my brain processed the rest of his statement. With a joy I hadn't experienced in months, I queried, "You're going to visit _Him_ today?"

"Yes, I'm going over this afternoon. We need to smooth over the details of our relocation," Snape said carefully, warily eyeing the Muggle beside us.

"Are you going to App—"

His hand quickly covered my mouth. "Watch your mouth, insolent boy!" he snapped roughly.

I chose to say nothing in reply and merely sunk into my seat, slouching to spite my elders bent on manners, and pouting to show my displeasure.

_He didn't know that Snape was not going to "smooth over details," but rather to throw the rising Dark Lord off their scent._

---

All was silent in the afternoon. What few humans had been trapped in the dungeons that morning were now long gone, tortured and killed in the afternoon out of pure boredom. Lying in wait, the Death Eaters were forced to stay underground with their master, with little but several prisoners to entertain them. The dungeons cried out in the groans of pipes, the drips of water, and the eerie sounds that echoed through the halls. The cells desired more carnage, more bodies to suck the life out of.

Severus shivered at the strange feeling. As he felt dungeons' need for life, he contemplated the likelihood of the cells possessing humanlike qualities.

He arrived at the inner sanctum of Lord Voldemort and carefully knelt before his throne.

"Severus," he rasped harshly. With a flick of his wand, Severus felt pain course through his body, but refused to acknowledge it.

Weakness only angered the Dark Lord.

"You're late," Voldemort hissed, releasing the spell with a sense of disappointment hanging in the air.

"I was not able to Apparate," Snape answered silkily. "It was under your orders that I refrain from using my magic, lest the Ministry use it to track me. The bus was late. I am sorry, my Lord."

"Very well," his Lord agreed, settling back into his throne. "Now then, what have you been up to?"

"Since Dumbledore's death, Draco and I have quietly retrieved our belongings undetected. I presume Wormtail has told you of my visit?" Snape queried.

"That he has," Voldemort answered icily.

A long, tense silence hung in the air following those words while Snape quickly calculated what the chilly tone could be implying. He was careful not to dwell on anything resembling fear or defiance for too long, lest the Dark Lord be listening.

"And I presume you know just what about that visit has disturbed me," Lord Voldemort said matter-of-factly, the unspoken demand of an explanation lingering.

"Ah, yes," Severus replied before the answer could be whispered into his mind. "You speak of the box?"

A cool smile played upon Voldemort's white face before he answered. "What is in it?" he demanded. "You very well know your precarious situation within my circle, Severus, so answer wisely."

Vagueness was key in this. Skirting around the issue; much like every other issue that had been raised in question of his loyalties.

---

Night had fallen as it inevitably would, and the house was doused in darkness. A small, dim light glowed softly in the center of the shack, with one lone shadow moving about cautiously, seemingly searching for something. Finally, after hours of this, another shadow joined the first, promptly halting the previous actions of the first. Then the small light was extinguished.

My eyes squinted to adjust in the darkness.

"You won't find it," Severus said quietly while I fumbled around for my bed. "It does not concern you, do you understand this?"

"Yes," I replied insolently, crossing my arms across my chest.

"When will you learn to trust me?" he asked wearily. Through the darkness, I could see him rubbing his temple with long, slender fingers. "You cannot get through this alone, and I have been appointed as your guardian."

"Never!" I exclaimed heatedly, rising abruptly from my mattress in passionate anger. "My mother is _perfectly_ capable—"

"Your _mother_ is helpless," Snape growled cruelly. "She came to _me_ for your protection, you ignorant, hateful boy! You stirring up trouble completely undermines every step she's ever taken to keep you safe!"

I lunged at this statement, only to be held back by an invisible force. I snarled, thrusting my hands forward in attempt to grab him. "MY MOTHER IS _NOT_ HELPLESS! YOU JUST WON'T LET HER NEAR ME! SHE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE THE _CHANCE_ TO HELP ME!"

"Narcissa has no means to help you, Draco," he replied calmly, as though I had not been screaming at him.

"YOU'RE NOT FIT TO SPEAK HER NAME, YOU _WORTHLESS_—"

"That is more than enough out of you," he sneered, casting a wandless silencing spell on me. "Now you listen to me, because I'm only going to explain this once."

Infuriated and unable to meet his chilly tone with a reply, I sat back down swimming in my own anger and frustration.

"It's clear that I cannot leave you alone during my next visit to our Lord. So I will be forced to take you with me." He eyed me carefully, and continued in a manner which predicted my responses.

"Silly boy, you won't actually be _with me_. That would ruin everything. Headquarters are currently none of your business – all you need to know is that there are cells that are perfectly capable of holding your roaming eyes and hands. _Yes_, cells. If you cannot be trusted, Draco, I have no choice but to lock you up during my next meeting," he explained without remorse.

Outraged, but now coming to my senses, I barged in on Snape's thoughts with a tirade of my own.

_I will _not_ be put in a cell for your own convenience! As for whatever you _think _it is you know about what I was looking for – you were wrong. And I have a Dark Mark too, you know? My Lord would be more than pleased to see me; even despite my failure – which was due in part to your rush to rescue me before seeing my potential!_

"Clever, young Malfoy. And it only took you three whole minutes to realize the loophole in my spell," Severus said with obvious sarcasm. "I see you finally managed to break through into my mind. Passion can be a powerful feeling, can it not? However, you must learn to put a leash on your emotions. Only then can you harness your powers and full potential."

"Don't you change the subject!" I shouted, suddenly free of the spell.

"Draco, your bouncing mood swings need to be kept under control. You need to channel your energy into one source."

"Why won't you take me to see him directly?" I asked, attempting to maintain a calm tone.

I saw Snape rise from his bed and begin pacing, almost as though contemplating how best to word it so I wouldn't understand everything. I was _so tired_ of not understanding!

"Tell me flat out! You say you want me to trust you? Then quit dancing around the issues at hand," I demanded fiercely, my temper flaring once more.

_He didn't know that vagueness was key._

---


	5. Draco Malfoy & No 12, Grimmauld Place

**Disclaimer:** I think we all know who this REALLY belongs to.

**Notes:** It's been almost a year, shame on me! But this story doesn't seem to get much traffic or reviews, so I put it on the back burner for a while. In any case, with the release of the last book soon, I decided to get my butt in gear. Also, I've abandoned the little "He didn't know" things because they were unbearably cheesy.

Anyway, enjoy and _**please**_ review! Just so I know this is still worth it. Because this is officially my favorite story to write, and I would appreciate knowing others are enjoying this as well.

**_Last Time:_** Severus visited Voldemort where he was grilled about the mystery box he retrieved from his quarters in the first chapter. When he arrived back home, Draco had destroyed the place looking for said box, and Snape told him it didn't concern him. Draco lost control when Snape hinted that he was the only one left to care for Draco. Draco defended his mother's honor, and Snape told him to get a hold of himself and use his intense feelings to hone his powers. Then Draco demanded to know why he couldn't go with Severus to see Voldemort.

* * *

**Chapter Five: Draco Malfoy and Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place**

* * *

Dozens of aluminum cans littered the floor of the unkempt shack. Several were crumpled by an angered fist, and others lay spilling liquid all over the house, with a trail of the liquid staining the walls they hit. The light sound of snores filled the otherwise silent house, interrupted only by frustrated groans and a fumbling figure bumping into various objects. When the particularly loud sound of someone knocking a chair over cut off the snores, the once sleeping body awoke with a start.

"Draco! What fresh hell is this?" Severus asked me angrily.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" I replied back, but the words hadn't come out as smoothly as I'd hoped.

"Oh, bloody hell!" he cried. "You've been drinking, haven't you? Where did you get those? It's not even noon yet, Draco!"

"Well, you see," I slurred, "this one reminded me of…" I trailed off, vaguely picturing a bottle of Firewhisky, but unable to get out the words.

Severus glared at me suspiciously before he half-asked, "You snuck these into the cart when I wasn't looking?" through gritted teeth.

I had to hand it to him – through my drunken fog, I had _no_ idea he had once again violated the privacy of my mind. And judging by the angry red tinge to his face, I would have to conclude that he still was.

"I would appreciate it if you no longer referred to me as a 'crooked-nosed, greasy, no-good git' ever again, Mister Malfoy," Snape hissed in a deceptively smooth tone.

"I—Of course not," I fumbled, a little shocked into soberness now.

Boy, those Muggle beers were completely worthless, weren't they? Trust Muggles to muck it all up; wizards were much better brewers, what with magic on their sides. You could count on wizarding alcohol to keep you trashed for hours on end unless you had the Selected Soberizer with you, of course.

"It's Designated Driver for the Muggles, you know," Snape told me, obviously _still_ not knowing when to butt out. "And no, I will not leave until you make me do so. How many times have I told you—?"

"Yes, yes, I know! Not until I learn to keep myself on guard at all times!" I mumbled, holding my pounding head. "Now please, for the love of Merlin, be my Selected Soberizer!"

"Absolutely not!" he replied, clearly affronted by the suggestion. "No magic! _Especially_ not to keep you from the delights of a hangover. Besides, Muggles have no such thing as a Selected Soberizer."

"But you just said they had a designated something-or-other!" I protested, squinting my eyes. "So why can't you just wave your wand – or focus real hard and forget the wand! – to sober me up completely?"

"The Designated Driver is someone who doesn't partake in the," Snape wrinkled his nose in disgust as he picked up a particularly beat up can, "_drinking_, and takes all the drunk bastards home in his car so they don't kill themselves on the road."

"His what?"

"His _car_, Draco. Honestly, you could stand to take a Muggle Studies class or two. Your ignorance of Muggle culture is really quite hindering, seeing as how we're trying to blend in," Snape lectured.

"Yes, well, you seem to know enough for the both of us. So you see, I won't be losing any sleep over it," I snarked, suddenly feeling fresh and new. "Hey, you sobered me up!"

"And I'm sure to regret it," Snape sneered at me. "However, I need you bright-eyed and bushy tailed for today. We've important business to tend to this afternoon." He paused. "But don't think I won't be sending a nasty curse your way after everything is said and done to compensate for this," he added.

I glanced at him uneasily, wondering what exactly he could do to me that would be worse than a hangover. Though I wasn't really sure what a hangover was like, since _I_ always had a Selected Soberizer with me.

Yes, yes, except for this morning. A poor follow-through on my part.

---

Number twelve, Grimmauld Place. There was no such thing. Two ratty old buildings with peeling paint and a high probability of a large cockroach population stood next to each other: Number eleven, Grimmauld Place and number thirteen, Grimmauld Place. However, there was absolutely nothing in between – though the severe lack of lighting certain didn't help any.

Suddenly, just as I was pondering how old Snape must be getting to suggest this supposed address, a house squeezed itself in between the two odd numbered houses. Being a wizard, this kind of thing shouldn't have surprised me, but I jumped back nonetheless.

Snape pushed me off with disgust. "Really, Draco. Just how long is it you've been living amongst wizards and witches? Had I not known you personally, I would've thought you were a Mug—"

"Don't you even!" I hissed. "I may not have my wand, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't watch your back should you continue that statement."

"Calm yourself and follow me," Snape sneered, giving me another little shove towards the house. He went up the steps and gave a sharp knock on the worn door with his wand.

I sneered, wishing he wouldn't tease me that way.

"Is He expecting us?" I asked, eyeing the snake-shaped knocker. "Really, Severus, it took you long enough to take me to see Him," I lectured. "I know you said it was best to keep a low profile after the whole debacle, but I can't imagine why He wouldn't be pleased to see me."

Snape said nothing.

It suddenly sounded as though someone were unlocking several locks (overprotective bastards, weren't they?) before the door opened marginally.

As we walked into the rundown old house – second in shabbiness only to our own rat hole – Snape whispered, "Watch yourself."

It seemed like wise advice, considering I actually had no idea how Voldemort felt about me. Suddenly I was nervous, and wishing I hadn't been so intent on going to see him.

All the serpents that decorated the old shack seemed to come to life and look at me, dripping with disapproval. I felt a chill go down my spine and I was now vehemently despising myself for all my false bravado about going to visit the Dark Lord.

Damn me.

Snape led me further into the house, deadly silent. The lights flickered out, but I wasn't sure if it was Snape's doing or not. Then, there was a disturbingly loud clatter of things on the floor, and I heard an unbearable screeching.

"_Lumos,_" Snape murmured angrily somewhere in front of me. His wand emitted a bright glow, and I could suddenly see the source of the shrieking.

"_Traitor!_" screamed the portrait of a very old woman. She looked very angry at Snape, and certainly let us know such. "_How dare you enter my home and—_"

The hushed silence was obviously very welcome, but I was unnerved by the way she stopped so abruptly to stare at me with venom in her eyes.

"Er, hello, ma'am," I offered nervously, bowing before her. I didn't know what the proper etiquette for greeting paintings were. I avoided all the ones in my manor, obviously. I needn't hear about what a failure I was from anyone other than my father.

Her face softened – if that was at all possible – and in a much softer voice she practically cooed, "_Draco._"

I stared, dumbfounded. She knew my name?

"Y-yes," I stumbled, taking a slight step back. "And you are?"

"_Oh, finally!_" the old woman breathed, obviously done with her previous shouting match. "_Some of my very own flesh and blood before me! You don't smell like a blood traitor,_" she added, sparing a withering glance at my partner.

I nudged Snape roughly in the ribcage. "This woman is related to me?" I asked incredulously. "Why does He have her portrait in His headquarters?"

My mind ran rampant. Could she have been some great follower I'd never heard of? No, that would be odd. Father would've bragged about her for sure. Then… oh, Merlin… Had she done the deed with Him?

…Was I related to Voldemort? Sweet Merlin! Was I Voldemort's long lost son?

"_Don't be foolish, Draco_," Snape jeered in hushed tones. "And when will you _ever_ learn to be on guard?"

I sent him a dirty look, angry that I had been so lost in wild fantasy that I hadn't even noticed his intrusion.

Before I could retort back with something undeniably witty, the woman answered, "_Why, I'm your great aunt, dear_."

---

The portrait of the old woman smiled a cruel smile. It almost seemed loving, but it was doubtful she could accomplish such an emotion. She tilted her head, waiting for a response of some kind. Getting none, she lifted her arms and gestured towards a family tree posted beside her.

I casually approached it, noting the family name: _Black_.

And there it was. Narcissa Black, connected to Lucius Malfoy, parents of one Draco Malfoy. Me.

Yes, I had heard of this woman before: Aunty Black. But I had never met her. Mother always told me she quite the piece of work, but she was just darling if you stayed on her good side.

I looked around the room a little more, suddenly seeing other family relics and antiques. Realization dawned on me. This woman was not important to Voldemort. Rather, she had offered up her house as a type of headquarters.

That was a relief.

"So are the rest of the Death Eaters going to be coming soon?" I asked Severus softly

"_Come to vanquish my house of all the filth, have you_?" the woman asked me hopefully, appearing to lean out of her picture.

I shot her a confused look and gave Severus a frown of confusion.

Ignoring my great aunt's question, he replied to me, "Not exactly," and looking extremely on edge.

"What exactly is going on here?" I bellowed, looking imploringly at Mrs. Black. I sensed there was something Snape wasn't telling me, and judging from the hateful way she'd treated Severus before, I suspected she would be the only one to tell me the truth.

"Now, Draco, calm yourself. You're getting all riled up for naught," Severus attempted to sooth me.

"_Silence, you blood traitor scum!_" shouted Aunty. "_He wasn't speaking to you! You aren't even fit to be near him! Get away!_"

I smirked. Then an epiphany came, and I almost felt sorry for Severus. It was a strange feeling to pity the man, but I suddenly understood what her problem was.

"Oh! Oh, Aunty, no, Severus isn't the bad man you think him to be. I'm sure you've heard those backstabbing lowly Death Eaters clucking about Severus like little women, but I can assure you whatever they've said isn't true!

"Father's told me that our Lord's followers view him as untrustworthy because he was held in Dumbledore's highest esteem. But they're just foolish. Sevvy here spoke the spell that killed the batty old codger," I explain, my voice growing bitter with the last sentence.

Snape looked at me oddly, and I sneered at him for not expressing gratitude for my loyalty. Surely he hadn't even been able to get a word in edgewise with all of her shrieking to explain his side. He could be so ungrateful sometimes!

She peered over at me through her cap, furrowing her brows, but otherwise staying silent.

"Well, then?" I turned to Severus expectantly.

"Draco, let's get some things straight. First, you are never to call me Sevvy again, understand?" he growled.

"Of course not," I answered with a smile and fingers crossed behind my back. I knew he would hate the nickname. It gave me such pleasure to use it. "And second?"

"Second….And second, you have never – in all of your short, meaningless life – been more wrong. You haven't the foggiest idea why Mrs. Black here is angry with me."

I, too, furrowed my brow. "W-what? What else could she possibly have to hate you for?" I demanded.

"_Mudblood lover!_" the portrait hissed when Severus remained silent. "_Go on, tell Draco your secret, you filth! Tell him before the other blood traitors do._"

"Tell me now, Severus," I demanded in a cool voice, losing my patience. I hated being kept in the dark. And just who were these others? Nothing was adding up.

"Shut up!" Severus growled at the two of us, rubbing his temple. "Give me time! This is – this is a delicate situation. You!" he shouted at my great aunt, "You weren't supposed to be here. They should've found the way to remove you by now!"

"_Who_? Who should have removed her?" I asked with a slam of my fist on the nearest table. "Severus, I insist you tell me what's going on right now!"

"Yes, that's what I'd like to know," agreed a cold voice from behind me.

I vaguely felt the tip of a wand pressed against my back. This made even less sense. Severus was supposed to have explained to Him that I was a valuable asset.

Aunty Black was screeching about blood traitors, Mudbloods, scum, and all sorts of foul names. Surprised, I turned to look at Severus, who had raised his arms and dropped both of our wands. He, too, had a wand thrust into his back.

"What are you doing here? You're no longer welcome here! You made that perfectly clear several months ago," the voice sneered.

It sounded so familiar, but I was becoming too groggy to give it much thought. I saw Severus' head droop a little, his eyes rolling in and out of focus. Whoever they were, they had cast a spell I was unfamiliar with.

My head began to pound, and I dropped to my knees. Aunty Black's shrieks were fading away, and my vision was blurring. The person holding me at wandpoint kicked me to the ground.

"Call…can't believe…Snape and Draco…Grimmauld…the Order…know what to do…"

I could barely make out the words as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I forced my bleary eyes open and saw a face I wished I had the strength to Avada.

His hair was longer and shaggier than it had been in school, but even through my blurry vision, his hateful scar was unmistakable.

---


	6. Draco Malfoy & the Order of the Phoenix

**Disclaimer:** Just borrowing 'em, promise!

**Notes: **Now that the book has come out, it'll be quite apparent that this is AU from _DH_. So you needn't be worried about spoiling yourself.

Ok, I'm getting a little desperate now. Please **_PLEASE_** review these chapters. My last two have gotten none whatsoever and it's discouraging. I really like this story, but I refuse to continue updating if I have no evidence that others are enjoying it. At this point, I'd be pleased to get anything from a "Great" to a detailed review about how you felt about it. I'd prefer the latter, obviously, but I'll take just about anything except flames.

_This will be the last chapter I submit of this story if no one reviews._

* * *

**Chapter Six: Draco Malfoy and the Order of the Phoenix**

* * *

Hushed voices drifted into the room from the slightly ajar door. Someone stood abruptly, their chair screeching in protest as it scraped across the floor. There was the distinct sound of a dish shattering to a million pieces on the floor as one of the previously hushed voices rose to a piercing level.

"Oi, keep it to a dull roar in there," I grumbled, rolling over and pressing a pillow against my ears to drown out the sound.

Suddenly realizing where I was, I sat bolt upright, my eyes darting across the empty bedroom. What the _bleeding_ hell had happened? And why was _Potter_ infiltrating _our_ headquarters?

I stormed out of the room I had previously been sleeping in and came face to face with a table filled with familiar and unfamiliar faces. At the head of the table Harry was standing (presumably the one who had caused such a fuss earlier) with Weasel and the Mudblood at either side of him. Next to them were several people I had never seen in my life, though I recognized the destitute Weasley adults by their unmistakable flaming red hair and ratty rags posing as clothing (covered in dirt, of course). Severus sat at the end of the table with his back facing me. He turned his head to peer curiously at me, as all conversation had ceased the moment I thrust my door open.

"Ah, here he is," Snape said tersely.

"Speak of the devil, and he shall come," Granger murmured under her breath just loud enough for me to hear her not-so-witty remark.

"_Mudblood_. Good to see you've not changed your hair regimen. Bushy as ever, I see," I retorted with a sneer.

Weasel leapt from his seat – undoubtedly to defend the honor of his fair Mudblood maiden.

I waved him off with my hand as his mother ordered him to sit and calm down. "No need to get so defensive, Weasel. I was merely complimenting her ability to not care about her appearance in public. It's very…_brave_," I finished, my voice dripping with disdain.

"And _this_ – you expect us to believe that this _scum_ will be loyal to us?" Harry demanded in an incredulous voice. "As it is, Severus, I have a hard time believing your story and I'd just as soon kill you if it weren't for the letter Fawkes delivered me just days after…" but he fell silent before the sentence was finished.

The atmosphere became somber, which wasn't a welcome change to the previous tension the air had carried before. I could deal with tension. But this made me shift my weight uncomfortably as my three schoolmates briefly looked at me with obvious hate.

Nevertheless, I quickly regrouped myself and focused on the matter at hand. "I will most certainly _not_ be loyal to you! Imagine – me fighting alongside you lot," I scoffed. "Now Severus, I trust we will not be drugged again, so I demand you explain the meaning of all this. Where is…_He_?"

"Draco, please follow me. I need to speak with you," Snape instructed, getting up to lead me back into the room.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Harry nod his head toward us.

"_Privately_," he added, giving a meaningful look to Weasel, who had made a move to follow us.

---

The room was relatively bare. Mainly, it was filled with cobwebs that had many dead insects trapped in its stickiness. And dust, surely, covered what little there was in the room. For instance, dust covered the two lone candles so heavily that it would be a miracle if they were to actually light up. The bed on the far side of the room was disheveled at best, with the blanket lying in a heap on the cold wood floor.

"I didn't take you to see Voldemort," Severus sighed. "He would never trust you, Draco, and so your life would be in danger. Instead, I have taken you to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. And I hope you will take into serious consideration joining our ranks."

I took a step back. "'_Our_ ranks'? Y-You…You _are_ a traitor?" I asked in a soft, disbelieving voice.

"I am not. I spy on Voldemort, yes, but I do not view it as traitorous. It's difficult to explain my role and my reasoning. I do not expect you to understand any of it. But I ask, Draco, that you be wise and join the side that would most benefit you in the long run."

"What? _Never_. I will _never_ work with that git in there. He is my enemy. He is _the_ enemy – the one thing standing between Voldemort and his perfect world!" I ranted. "I can't even begin to fathom how you think it's even remotely wise to work for the Order. You think they honestly trust you? You killed their leader. What does that say about your character? It certainly doesn't scream 'trustworthy' to me!"

"There are many things about that night that you don't and _won't_ understand. And it will stay that way until the time is right," Severus cut in, frustrated. "Draco, you listen to me. If there is one thing that I could ever teach you, it's this: Voldemort is not to be trusted. He has made it very clear that he intends on using you as a message. You have failed him, and he is displeased. I convinced him to spare your life until the war is over."

"Oh, that's _very_ thoughtful of you! And so you've taken me here to die at _their_ hands instead?" I cried, outraged.

"_No_. I've taken you here to initiate you into the Order and save your life. You can be a spy just like me because of the heavy bargaining I have done with Lord Voldemort," he explained. "I assured him that you could still be of use to him. And he needs all the help he can get, so he has agreed."

"That's not true," I countered, folding my arms across my chest. "We have more than Potter's side. We have the Death Eaters, the Giants, and so many more."

"The Giants are our biggest ally," Severus agreed, presumably talking about the Dark Side. "They have turned against Voldemort. The Order has managed to turn and divide several species against Him, but they have managed the loyalty of the entire Giant kind."

Ah. He meant the Light Side.

"But how can you be sure you have their loyalty? They could be acting under the orders of Him," I insisted, keeping a leash on my angry emotions.

I was defiant to the idea of joining the same leagues as Potter. He rejected my hand of friendship in first year, and in turn, I had every intention of rejecting _his_ hand of acceptance in my trustworthiness – though I severely doubted any such hand was going to be offered voluntarily.

"Draco, we have not the time for this. We will discuss it later. For right now, I need you to convince them that your loyalty could be with them."

I don't know how Severus could possibly think that I could honestly warm up to the idea so quickly. It seemed uncharacteristically foolish of him.

Which meant that I could trust I would be finding out what was _really_ going on very soon.

---

The people at the table all gave cold eyes and tight smiles. Though most were frowning and clenching their jaws. It was completely silent in terms of conversation. Which made the scraping of forks and knives against the plates that much more noticeable and uncomfortable. Several gave up the pretenses of eating and merely let their utensils clatter loudly on their plates to show their distaste for the situation.

"The food is delicious as usual, Molly," Granger announced awkwardly.

I fought the urge to drop my fork as well when I heard who had prepared dinner. I suddenly wouldn't be surprised if I dropped dead on the floor any minute from either poisoning or … some sort of disease poor people got from improperly prepared food.

But I had to grudgingly admit that it was indeed delicious, and a wonderful break from the rubbish Snape prepared. It sometimes got to the point where I _prayed_ for undercooked food because the taste of ash was more disturbing than the prospect of contracting a disease from the undercooked meats.

Across from the Mudblood, Weasel winced and swore loudly and was reprimanded by his mother. "Yes, it's really good, Mum," he offered weakly. It was obvious Granger had kicked him under the table.

"Thank you," Molly Weasley replied tensely, her eyes darting to me.

I hoped she didn't expect compliments from me, because I'd rather lose all my money and be thrown from a Threstral than do such a thing.

The room fell into awkward silence once more. Only to be disrupted minutes later by the front door opening and the sound of footsteps running into the room.

I stared in disbelief at the red hair that whizzed by.

She Weasel had run into the dining room and flown into Potter's arms.

Severus coughed slightly (which she didn't notice in all of her fawning over _Potter_) and looked at me pointedly. My lower jaw set itself in its usual angry position and I stared back with a stony face. I hoped my cold gaze expressed my extreme dislike for her and that his foolish notion that I fancied her was no longer an issue.

"Harry, have you found the Hor—" She Weasel began anxiously, only to be cut off by her mother.

"_Ginny_."

She turned, and her gaze fell onto me and Severus. "_You_!" she shrieked, brandishing her wand.

"Gin, no," Potter interrupted softly, placing his hand on top of hers and lowering her wand.

"_What_?"

Potter cleared his throat and pushed aside his plate. "I think now would be the appropriate time to get to the bottom of things. We can't stay here for long, we need to get back out there," he announced cryptically.

"Yeah, and we don't want to spend any longer than we have to with this evil ferret," Weasel chimed in.

I sneered at the pair.

"I'll be blunt, Snape. I don't believe for one second that Malfoy would be useful to us. I don't trust him one bit. As you know, I hardly even trust you – all things considered," Potter said in a businesslike tone.

"Well, luckily for me, _Potter_, what you think doesn't really matter in here," Severus replied in his silky voice. "For my actions have been accounted for, as dubious as they may seem. But I understand any apprehension towards my charge over here. Which is why," he added with a rising voice, "I suggest the Heart of Hearts potion."

Blank stares met us, save for the incredulous gasp that came from Granger – surprise, surprise. Bucktooth Brainiac knew what the potion was.

"That takes a week to brew," she breathed, no doubt impressed by the mere idea of testing my loyalty with a potion.

I didn't know much about it, but I knew for sure that it was much more powerful and ironclad than a Versitarium.

"That's more time than I can afford to lose just staying here," Potter added. "What does it do?"

"Just what it says, Harry," Granger sighed in exasperation. "The drinker can only say what's in his heart of hearts – he cannot lie."

"Than why don't we just use a truth serum? It takes much less time," Weasel suggested.

"Oh, _honestly,_ Ronald. This potion would not allow Malfoy to lie even to himself. Whereas if he had a Versitarium, he could say what he himself _believed_ to be true, even if deep down it wasn't."

"_What_?" the freckled plebian exclaimed. "That doesn't even make sense!"

Severus watched, amused, as she sighed and tried to explain it in a way that made sense. Why she bothered, I'd never know.

"Say, for instance, you preferred Firewhiskey to Butterbeer—"

"Which I do," Ron cut in. "Butterbeer is too tame after all we've been through," he added, avoiding the disapproving gaze from his mother and father.

"_But_, deep down you know you still like Butterbeer. It may take longer to get you sloshed, but it's delightful and sweet. Firewhiskey may be instantaneous, but it's tangy and bitter."

He regarded her with confusion and slight embarrassment that his drinking habits were being used to publicly explain a potion. I, however, leaned in, eager to see where this was going.

"Under a Versitarium, you would say that you preferred Firewhiskey because it's adventurous and you ignore the less pleasant taste and go straight for the efficiency in the end result. But the Heart of Hearts potion would know that the whole package is important to you, and you would be unable to say you like the harshness of Firewhiskey. Butterbeer is what you're familiar with, and in the end, you like best what you're comfortable with.

"Sure, Butterbeer makes you take a risk. You don't know if you'll drink enough to get drunk. But sometimes a risk is worth it, right?" the Mudblood finished.

I grinned. By now, it was obvious her little tirade was not about the potion at all. Rather, it was a hint to Weaselby. But it was obvious he was too thick to understand.

I snuck a glance at his parents, and noted that Molly was grinning from ear to ear, but his mousey father looked just as confused as his son.

"I don't follow," Weasel stuttered.

"Come on, Weaselby! She's hinting that you ask her out, you big oaf," I crowed.

Granger shot a mortified look at me, her eyes darting from him to me.

To my extreme pleasure, Weasel turned an embarrassing shade of red with his girlfriend following suit, and She Weasel was giggling behind her hand.

No, wait. Her giggling wasn't part of my pleasure.

Really.

Potter coughed behind his hand and sent the others a stern look. "What we need to focus on right now is what we're going to do about _him_. Snape, what do you need to brew it?"

"_I_ will worry myself about that, Potter," Snape replied smoothly, rising from the table. "_You_ just focus on getting your own job done."

Potter narrowed his eyes at the pair of us before continuing, "Right. Well, Ron and I are off to keep looking for… to continue with our job. Hermione, you stay behind to make sure Snape's brewing the potion correctly. We can't afford to have the likes of Malfoy on our side if he doesn't truly intend on maintaining his loyalty."

Granger made a sound of disapproval at being left behind, but before she could launch into another lecture, Snape cut her off.

"I will most certainly _not_ tolerate being babysat by Miss Granger. You take her with you or you keep her out of our hair. She may have been one of the more brilliant students in class, but this potion can only be brewed by a Potions Master. And I fear," he drawled arrogantly, "that she has not yet reached such a rank."

"Well, I say that's an excellent idea, Potter," a new voice added. "Despite what Dumbledore may have ordered, I say 'constant vigilance' is key! Hermione here can be trusted to make sure Snape isn't sabotaging the potion."

I turned to the left, to see who dared to malign Severus' ability to properly brew a potion. Of course. It was that paranoid one-eyed freak.

Mad Eye Moody. He must've snuck in during all the commotion about those two dolts fancying each other but not having the guts to do anything about it.

---

The room designated for brewing was the exact same as the rest of the rooms in the house: it was sparsely decorated, dusty, and filled with cobwebs. A few papers and a broken quill littered the floor and all the lights had died out sometime earlier from lack of use. The only object of note was a single bookcase. The most peculiar thing about it was that it was sorely lacking in books. There was one book for every shelf, and that was it.

I clucked my tongue in disapproval. "I can tell you right now that I _won't_ be drinking any potion brewed in _this_ room," I announced, taking in the unnecessary amounts of dust and cobwebs.

"Well," Snape drawled from the stairway behind me, "that's precisely why I'm having you clean it!"

I whirled to face him, a slew of insults and protests sitting atop my tongue before he shoved a broom, dustbin, and a trash bag into my hands and slammed the door shut without giving me the chance.

I looked around the room helplessly, my mouth agape. I absolutely refused – without my wand, this room was hopeless! After all, did I look like a maid?

Severus' head suddenly appeared in the furthest corner of the room. It was disconcerting to see his ethereal head just floating there, inspecting the room. "Draco, I said to clean this! I didn't mean later, I meant now, you silly boy!"

"Not without my wand, I won't!" I huffed at him. "How dare you expect me to clean it like a common Muggle! Brooms are meant to be flown, not to be cleaned with! It's an _insult_ to their very being."

"_Draco_, you know very well that I will not allow you to have your wand."

"I thought you said I couldn't have it because we were living amongst the filthy Muggles. Now we're just living with filthy blood-traitors, but at least they're wizards – well, that's a matter of opinion, really—" I muttered before being interrupted.

"Voldemort has a track on your wand, Malfoy. It would best suit you to lay low until this all blows over," Snape replied, disappearing without another word.

Pouting, I picked up the broom I had earlier tossed aside and got to work. But slowly, just to be spiteful.

---

The room was now mostly cleared of the dust and only a few cobwebs remained. In the middle of the floor, three of the few books in the bookcase were lying opened to different pages. One of them was closed, with half of the broken quill in between two pages in an effort to bookmark them. And the papers that had been strewn carelessly on the floor were now gathered into a neat little pile next to the floor.

There was a soft knock at the door.

I looked up immediately, ceasing my scribbling and covering the papers with my hands just in time as the door squeaked open slowly.

"Malfoy?" asked a terse voice quietly. It was as though she didn't anticipate me to be in the room. Or better still, seeing as how she still hadn't shown her face, she was afraid that I would attack her.

What a delicious thought.

"Yes?" I answered in my best irritated tone. "What do you want, Granger?"

"It's lunchtime. Molly wanted to know if you were planning to join us?"

I sighed, placing my broken quill on the floor and carefully putting the papers I had so meticulously made notes on in the middle of one of my open books. I got up soundlessly to put back in their rightful place, making note to come back for them later.

"Malfoy?" Granger called again. "A simple yes or no would suffice, honestly! I don't know who you think you are, keeping me waiting for your answer as though I hang on your every w—"

"Alright, alright! Really, Granger, do you like hearing the sound of your voice or something?" I cried, interrupting her little rant. I knew it would have gone on and on, like she was a little clucking hen. "I'll be down in a moment! Really, woman, the way you _nag_! How _do_ Pothead and Weaselby stand you?"

"Please, _don't_ hurry," she added dryly, obviously annoyed by my words.

Good.

Still, I swung the door open and followed her down the rickety staircase. I was definitely not looking forward to another tense meal and cursed myself for accepting the invite. I should've just rudely declined and snuck back downstairs for some leftovers. What was I thinking?

I kept my distance from the Mudblood, which actually turned out to be amusing and informative when I approached the dining room and heard the laughter and idle chatter suddenly halt upon seeing me.

The table was filled with the exception of three seats. One for Granger, one for Severus, and one for me.

I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling intensely awkward without my mentor. It was as though he had thrown me to the hippogriffs.

"Er, where's Severus?" I questioned, careful to keep my tone even.

"He's out collecting things, I suppose," Granger answered after it was obvious no one else would.

"Ah," I replied.

Weasel's mother handed me a plate filled with food, her lips pursed so tightly that they were nearly white. "Here," she said, shoving it into my hand.

"Thank you," I murmured, my head down. I decided the best way to get through this unscathed was to keep my head down, focusing on my food, and not speaking to anyone unless addressed. And since I sincerely doubted that would be an issue, I anticipated that I could scarf my food down quickly, then scurry up to my room without incident.

With Potter and Weasley absent, there was no way to pick on anyone to make the evening a little more fun. As easy as it was to fire Granger up, she too was quick with her tongue, and so that took a lot of the enjoyment out. It was nearly impossible to fluster her.

Against my will, however, I failed in my plan to not make eye contact with anyone. I couldn't help sneaking peeks at the youngest Weasley. Since it was obvious she was desperate to look in every direction but mine, I told myself it was just to see how many times I could sneer at her without getting caught.

Because I definitely did not have any sort of feelings for her. No, certainly not.

* * *

Please review. Thank you so much if you do! 


End file.
